Staring at Feet
Grungy feet, smelly feet, feet of all kind...

Twas the night before the draft
And its been a few years...

Excuse me for a second can you tell me something
I can't remember how I gave you that wedding ring...

A century old argument I write of
That involves a woman and a man...

Poetry should rhyme
Maybe not all the time...

I lay at night wanting to ask Time:
"Do you actually heal all wounds...